I just spread my Cubs fan eternal disappointment to the next generation.
Let me paint you a scene.
We are playing dodgeball, staff vs. campers (as usual), and after a series of timely “Jailbreak”s (aka every time one of us got out), we go on a roll and pick off dozens of first graders. Soon there are five of us counselors left, and one camper staring us down on the other side of the Prairie School gymnasium. Julia.
We rile up the campers who are out, waving our hands in the air and urging them to cheer on Julia. Within seconds, a deafening scream roars through the gym as thirty four six-year-olds chant, in jumbled unison, “JU-LI-A! JU-LI-A!!!”
Julia stands near the baseline, far away from the five of us, calm. One might even say she looks confident. There is no forehead crease of nervousness, no anxious glance to her peers at the sidelines. She holds a small red Gator foam ball in her right hand and stares at us. The roar from the crowd increases as we, the counselors, glance at each other with questioning looks. After a game of ruthless ball-chucking, do we really have what it takes to end this? Should we let them win? These are six year olds!
I rear back and throw my ball as hard as I can. It makes an audible thud as it bounces off Julia’s left knee.
The gym turns silent. Julia stands, still clutching the ball, confused.
YEAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I scream and pump my fist in celebration at the shocked campers. WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
I see it in their faces. Hopes, dreams, a belief in miracles – gone. Thirty four cold, hardened looks of young disappointment. I push down the small lump in my throat. They are my companions now. This is how life is.
After a deep breath, normalcy returns to the scene. We start collecting the dodge balls and getting the kids to line up at the door of the gym. As I turn, I see Julia staring at me, alone at the other end of the court. She raises her finger at me, unflinching, and says in a voice just audible enough to be heard across the gym: “I’ll get you one day.”

i'm glad to see you made the blog, but that's a pretty dark tale. I'm still searching for the deep significance, but I'll find it... All I know is if you wake up to Julia hovering over your bed tonight with a tire iron, don't be surprised. Jackass.
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